


Christmas is Compulsory!

by Mersheeple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Friendship, Gen, Snolidays, Snule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27859545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mersheeple/pseuds/Mersheeple
Summary: Severus Snape was not at the first Order Christmas Party. He refused to even think about the second. Until it was upon him and no one would let him forget.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall & Severus Snape, Severus Snape & Molly Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36





	Christmas is Compulsory!

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Snolidays day 8 prompt: Winter Clothes. This comes with much love to all my friends on the H&C server, with extra bonus love to w0rmy for being amazing and wonderful! <3 :heartpulse: love you!

He didn’t make it to the first Order Christmas Party. Being in a magically induced coma after having been attacked by an enormous, venomous, magically enhanced worm, and his pet snake, would do that to a person. Severus finally awoke from the coma on the 9th of January 1999 – another year older, another year wiser, and a whole lot healthier than he had been.

For starters, he was alive. Secondly, he had gained weight and, with the help of various potions he was sure, he had less aches and pains than he had had since entering into servitude with the **Immortal Dove Lord** (an anagram Severus had found that still made him laugh) and **A Bulbous Meddler** (here, he snickered to himself). And thirdly, his head did not hurt like it had when he had spent all his time Occluding. He felt lighter, happier, freer. He assumed it would not last long.

He was visited by multiple Order members in that first week. The first, of course, had been the Boy who Lived. Severus had stared at him as he calmly handed over a small package, waving his hand and smiling slightly. The package contained the vial of his memories, a silky soft green scarf and an Order of Merlin First Class. There was also a small card, signed by Kingsley Shacklebolt Acting Minister for Magic, which stated that he had been acquitted in absentia of all crimes pertaining to the War, including but not exclusive to the death of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. He was free.

He had nowhere to go, not really. His house, for it was never a home, in Spinner’s End had been destroyed after the War. While Harry Potter had managed to get him acquitted without the full story of his memories being released, he was still hated and vilified by both sides of the War. Someone, he personally felt it was more likely to be a Death Eater, had cast Fiendfyre from inside his house. The only thing he mourned was his library. His books had been works of art. Now he only had his smaller library, the one he kept at Hogwarts. He refused to return there. He was offered, strangely, a place to stay that was entirely unexpected.

Miss Hermione Granger had a spare room in her parent’s house. It was actually their bedroom, so it was the largest of the three. She lived in the second bedroom in the house. They rarely saw each other, although occasionally she would make breakfast for them both. Something cooked. Occasionally something sweet like pancakes or waffles but, more often than not, bacon sandwiches. He wasn’t entirely sure how she knew his favourite food, but he was definitely not complaining.

It was a peaceful life. Until she started to nag him about Christmas and specifically the Order Christmas Party. Why she started in September he wasn’t sure. She could have started in February when he had first come to her home and he would still have said no.

She tried to hold out the bacon sandwiches. He still said no and made his own. She tried to beg and wheedle and plead with him, but he still said no. By the first week in December he had said no at least a hundred times and she had given up asking. Or so he thought. The party was to be held on Christmas Eve and she tried once more, on the night. He said no and she muttered something about sending Minerva. He didn’t believe that she would and so he let her go off to the Burrow without saying a word, curling himself up in one of the chairs in the lounge with a book that he had found in the third bedroom, a room she had converted into a rather sweet little library, filled almost entirely with books from the Wizarding World. He was comfortably calm reading through _Fantastic Flora_ when he heard the floo activate. His first thought was that Miss Granger was back early from the party until a hand reached out and struck him across the back of his head. He stood, wand out, staring at the indignant Scottish woman standing by the fireplace and scowled.

“Oh, wipe that look off your face boy! It is Christmas Eve and I’ll be damned if I will let you sit here sulking instead of joining us for Christmas. You had an excuse last year but there isn’t any you could give me this year that will stop me from dragging you through that floo to the Burrow. Christmas is not voluntary Severus Snape. Christmas is compulsory!” She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, raising an eyebrow at him in a perfect mirror of his own. He felt himself droop under the weight of her disapproving look and nodded slowly.

“Yes Ma’am.” He walked towards her and offered her his elbow. She smiled softly and tugged him into the floo with her, calling out for The Burrow before he had a chance to speak and direct them somewhere else. He growled beside her as he felt himself squeezed through the floo network. He stumbled out of the floo at The Burrow and stopped just outside of the hearth, refusing to head towards the noisier part of the house. He heard an obnoxious shriek and turned to find his host embracing Minerva and muttering quietly as she thrust a bundle of wool at Minerva. Minerva laughed softly and the two witches wandered away, leaving Severus standing alone and quiet. He was tempted to eavesdrop.

“You know we do this Minnie! What were you thinking inviting an extra? I _know_ I told you the numbers were wrong after Penelope left poor Percy but…well, he isn’t going to play nice is he? I mean, he isn’t going to match with everyone. And I can’t change the colour! I don’t have any black wool anyway. I don’t use black. What am I going to do?” Molly wailed and he rolled his eyes. He heard Minerva giggling, a few muttered spells and then a snort from Molly. There was some more muttering and then Minerva and Molly walked back to him, with Molly holding a bundle of wool in her arms. His brow furrowed as he noticed that Minerva was now wearing a green knitted jumper with a gold M emblazoned on it. The neck and cuffs were red, as if the jumper was not Christmassy enough in the first place.

The bundle in Molly’s arms was powder blue, with threads of white and silver and Severus frowned as Molly thrust it towards him.

“Just…put it on Severus. It’s…it’s tradition.” He held onto the bundle and held it up. He didn’t have time to say anything as Minerva spelled it onto his body. It was too long in the body and too short in the arms. It was powder blue, with a silver trim to the cuffs and neck and in the middle in white and silver was…

“Molly, this is a P…” He trailed off, looking confused but not wanting to offend the woman in question. The wool was soft, and warm, and had obviously been made with love. It was entirely the wrong colour for him but…somehow, he liked it.

“Of course, it is a P. The children call you Professor don’t they?” Molly’s face tinged red as the obvious lie passed her lips and he hid his smirk. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Molly, the first time he had ever initiated a hug with the woman, with any woman if he was honest. He pulled away and bowed slightly to her, indicating to the blushing woman that she should precede him into the room where the party continued on. He entered last and, as expected, the silence was deafening. He said nothing, walking to the groaning table and picking up a glass of mulled wine. He turned back to the group and raised an eyebrow. George Weasley raised his glass and nodded at him and Severus offered a half-smile back.

“To the Professor!” The toast started in one corner of the room, from a young man who looked and sounded like Neville Longbottom but surely could not be, not with the confident way he spoke.

“The Professor!” The toast was responded to and Severus felt a blush tinge his cheeks as he was welcomed into the group.

Perhaps the Order Christmas Party wouldn’t be so bad after all. Especially if he was to receive a jumper every year, knitted with love and care by Molly Weasley.

He didn’t even mind that it was blue.


End file.
